Upon one occasion a Vandal-like irruption, by some unknown parties, was made in the dead of night upon the place of deposit. By the next morning the birds had all flown—been spirited away, or carried off—we give the reader his choice. A single venerable specimen of antiquity, the stateliest of the flock, was found tied by the legs to the knocker of the steward's door. And, as if to add insult to injury (or injury to insult, as you please), a paper was pinned upon his breast with the significant motto written upon it: E pluribus unum—"One out of many."


At one corner of the Palazzo Braschi, the last monument of Papal nepotism, near the Piazza Navona, in Rome, stands the famous mutilated torso known as the Statue of Pasquin. It is the remains of a work of art of considerable merit, found at this spot in the sixteenth century, and supposed to represent Ajax supporting Menelaus. It derives its modern name, as Murray tells us, from the tailor Pasquin, who kept a shop opposite, which was the rendezvous of all the gossips in the city, and from which their satirical witticisms on the manners and follies of the day obtained a ready circulation. The fame of Pasquin is perpetuated in the term pasquinade, and has thus become European; but Rome is the only place in which he flourishes. The statue of Marforio, which stood near the arch of Septimus Severus, in the Forum, was made the vehicle for replying to the attacks of Pasquin; and for many years they kept up an incessant fire of wit and repartee. When Marforio was removed to the Museum of the Capitol, the Pope wished to remove Pasquin also; but the Duke di Braschi, to whom he belongs, would not permit it. Adrian VI. attempted to arrest his career by ordering the statue to be burnt and thrown into the Tiber, but one of the Pope's friends, Ludovico Sussano, saved him, by suggesting that his ashes would turn into frogs, and croak more terribly than before. It is said that his owner is compelled to pay a fine whenever he is found guilty of exhibiting any scandalous placards. The modern Romans seem to regard Pasquin as part of their social system; in the absence of a free press, he has become in some measure the organ of public opinion, and there is scarcely an event upon which he does not pronounce judgment. Some of his sayings are extremely broad for the atmosphere of Rome, but many of them are very witty, and fully maintain the character of his fellow-citizens for satirical epigrams and repartee. When Mezzofante, the great linguist, was made a Cardinal, Pasquin declared that it was a very proper appointment, for there could be no doubt that the "Tower of Babel," "Il torre di Babel," required an interpreter. At the time of the first French occupation of Italy, Pasquin gave out the following satirical dialogue:

"I Francesi son tutti ladri,
"Non tutti—ma Buonaparte."
"The French are all robbers.
"Not all, but a good part;" or,
"Not all—but Buonaparte."

Another remarkable saying is recorded in connection with the celebrated Bull of Urban VIII., excommunicating all persons who took snuff in the Cathedral of Seville. On the publication of this decree, Pasquin appropriately quoted the beautiful passage in Job—"Wilt thou break a leaf driven to and fro? and wilt thou pursue the dry stubble?"


Literary Notices.

The Naval Dry Docks of the United States. By Charles B. Stuart.—This elegant volume, by the Engineer-in-Chief of the United States Navy, is dedicated with great propriety to President Fillmore. It is an important national work, presenting a forcible illustration of the scientific and industrial resources of this country, and of the successful application of the practical arts to constructions of great public utility. The Dry Docks at the principal Navy Yards in the United States are described in detail—copious notices are given of the labor and expense employed in their building—with a variety of estimates, tables, and plans, affording valuable materials for reference to the contractor and engineer. Gen. Stuart has devoted the toil of many years to the preparation of this volume, which forms the first of a series, intended to give a history and description of the leading public works in the United States. He has accomplished his task with admirable success. Every page bears the marks of fidelity, diligence, and skill. The historical portions are written in a popular style, and as few professional technicalities have been employed as were consistent with scientific precision. In its external appearance, this publication is highly creditable to American typography; a more splendid specimen of the art has rarely, if ever been issued from the press in this country. The type, paper, and binding are all of a superior character, and worthy of the valuable contents of the volume. The scientific descriptions are illustrated by twenty-four fine steel engravings, representing the most prominent features of the Dry Docks at different stages of their construction. We trust that this superb volume, in which every American may well take an honest pride, will not only attract the attention of scientific men, but find its way generally into our public and private libraries.

A unique work on the manners of gentlemen in society has been issued by Harper and Brothers, entitled, The Principles of Courtesy. The author, George Winfred Hervey, whom we now meet for the first time in the domain of authorship, seems to have made a specialty of his subject, judging from the completeness of detail and earnestness of tone which he has brought to its elucidation. It is clearly his mission to "catch the living manners as they rise" to submit them to a stringent search for any thing contraband of good feeling or good taste. He is an observer of no common acuteness. While he unfolds with clearness the great principles of courtesy, few trifles of detail are too unimportant to escape his notice. He watches the social bearing of men in almost every imaginable relation of life—detects the slight shades of impropriety which mar the general comfort—points out the thousand little habits which diminish the facility and grace of friendly intercourse—and spares no words to train up the aspirants for decency of behavior in the way they should go. We must own that we have usually little patience with works of this description. The manners of a gentleman are not formed by the study of Chesterfield. A formal adherence to written rules may make dancing-masters, or Sir Charles Grandisons; but the untaught grace of life does not come from previous intent. This volume, however, somewhat modifies our opinion. It is no stupid collection of stereotype precepts, but a bold, lively discussion of the moralities of society, interspersed with frequent dashes of caustic humor, and occasional sketches of character in the style of La Bruyere. Whatever effect it may have in mending the manners of our social circles, it is certainly a shrewd, pungent book, and may be read for amusement as well as edification.